<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>To Awaken by ChurchOfSeiros</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185465">To Awaken</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChurchOfSeiros/pseuds/ChurchOfSeiros'>ChurchOfSeiros</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Compulsory Heterosexuality, F/F, First Time, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Repression</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:26:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,198</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26185465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChurchOfSeiros/pseuds/ChurchOfSeiros</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“What good comes from trying to be ‘proper’, anyway? You’re already perfectly wonderful as you are.”</p><p>Ingrid cannot recall ever being spoken to like this. Praised like this. Much less in that mellow, soothing tone. She figures she must be quite red. “Mercedes, I… I don’t know what to say.”</p><p>Mercedes doesn’t say anything, but Ingrid does hear another quiet giggle coming from her. And just as she’s about to question Mercedes as to what she’s up to, Mercedes squeezes her shoulders again - thumbs digging expertly into the knots in her muscles, unwinding them. Ingrid sighs deeply, still utterly shy, but unable to pull away from the healing touch.</p><p>“Mercedes, really, you don’t need to-”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Mercedes von Martritz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>44</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>To Awaken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hello, Ingrid. How nice of you to join me today!”</p><p>“Good evening, Mercedes. Thank you for inviting me.”</p><p>Mercedes gives her that characteristic, sweet smile.</p><p>“Oh, no need to thank me. You know it’s always a pleasure to have you. Come, have a seat.”</p><p>With just a hint of nervousness, Ingrid does, sitting beside Mercedes at the small tea table in the center of her bedroom. It isn’t the first time that Mercedes invited her over for tea like this, but she still finds it difficult to match the casual, easygoing way with which Mercedes carries herself. After all, Ingrid has had few female friendships in her life, and is most used to spending time with her trio of male childhood friends.</p><p>“There is need to be shy, Ingrid. You should get yourself comfortable! See, I even brewed some of that mint blend that you like.”</p><p>She hadn’t noticed, but now that Mercedes has called attention to it, she feels the refreshing aroma pleasantly passing through her. “Yes, that does smell very good. How did you know? That this is my favorite tea, I mean.”</p><p>Mercedes giggles sweetly. “I have my ways.” She pours a cup for each of them, and Ingrid thanks her as she accepts one. She carefully sips the hot liquid, and it is, indeed, delicious.</p><p>“Wow, Mercedes. This is lovely. You’re very good at brewing tea.”</p><p>Again, Mercedes giggles. “Why, thank you, Ingrid. It makes me very happy to see someone smile as they sip some tea that I made.”</p><p>“Yes… that is quite like you. Always doing your best for others,” Ingrid says.</p><p>“Why, yes. All of my friends are always working so hard. The least that I can do is support them in any way I can. That very much includes you, Ingrid.”</p><p>Ingrid pauses, looking up from her tea cup. “Me?”</p><p>“But of course. You work very, very hard everyday, Ingrid. You are one of the most diligent people I know. You’re an excellent student, and few others treat their training as seriously as you do. In fact, I was just thinking, earlier, that it might do you some good to relax a bit, once in a while. That is why I invited you here today.”</p><p>She smiles, and it’s sincere and kind and it makes Ingrid’s cheeks feel warm.</p><p>“Oh- I. I’m only doing what’s expected of me, is all. Nothing particularly remarkable.”</p><p>“Oh, Ingrid. That too is so very like you,” Mercedes notes. She takes a brief sip of tea, then looks up rather suddenly. “Oh my!”</p><p>Ingrid’s heart rate picks up. “Wh-what is it?”</p><p>“You have a bit of…” she vaguely gestures to her own hair, and Ingrid pats clumsily at hers, to no avail.</p><p>“Here, let me get that for you.” Mercedes stands up, leans over the table, and with a very gentle touch, picks out a bit of straw that had been stuck in Ingrid’s hair.</p><p>“Oh, Goddess, I-” Ingrid puts her cup on the table. “I’m sorry, Mercedes. That’s embarrassing.”</p><p>“Don’t be silly, Ingrid. You worry about such minute things!”</p><p>She’s smiling, still, but Ingrid looks away, uneasy. “It’s not minute to me. I… Really struggle with being, erm. Proper.”</p><p>Mercedes sighs, her expression turned dour. She stands and walks around the tea table until she is standing behind Ingrid, and to Ingrid’s minor shock, puts both hands on her shoulders.</p><p>“Dear Ingrid… please, don’t say such things. I assure you, there is nothing about you that is improper.” She gently caresses Ingrid’s shoulders, pressing down ever so slightly to form a pleasant feeling of relief. Ingrid’s breath hitches.</p><p>“What good comes from trying to be ‘proper’, anyway? You’re already perfectly wonderful as you are.”</p><p>Ingrid cannot recall ever being spoken to like this. Praised like this. Much less in that mellow, soothing tone. She figures she must be red. “Mercedes, I… I don’t know what to say.”</p><p>Mercedes doesn’t say anything, but Ingrid does hear another quiet giggle coming from her. And just as she’s about to question Mercedes as to what she’s up to, Mercedes squeezes her shoulders again - thumbs digging expertly into the knots in her muscles, unwinding them. Ingrid sighs deeply, still utterly shy, but unable to pull away from the healing touch.</p><p>Can there be white magic resonating from Mercedes, Ingrid wonders. Something else that might explain these feelings? </p><p>“Mercedes, really, you don’t need to-”</p><p>“Relax, Ingrid, relax,” Mercedes urges. “You really are so tense. I can feel it even from here! Please, won’t you allow me to give you even a small moment of respite? You do deserve it.”</p><p>“I…” Ingrid swallows. It’s becoming more difficult for her to contain her breathing, as Mercedes’ fingers push and pull and produce a pain-edged pleasure. She must be using a fair amount of strength, but she doesn’t show any signs of over-exerting herself. Ingrid closes her eyes, relenting. Just this once. “Very well, Mercedes, just please-” she inhales sharply, “-don’t… don’t go overboard.”</p><p>“You don’t need to worry about that. Truly. Just let me do you this small kindness.”</p><p>It’s far more than a small kindness, Ingrid thinks, but she allows Mercedes to continue. Her head lolls to one side ever so slightly, her muscles relaxing more with every movement of Mercedes’ hands. Soon, Mercedes is brushing Ingrid’s hair to one side over her right shoulder, and her fingers are pressing into the back of her neck. Ingrid shivers, feeling her whole body light up with sensation.</p><p>“That’s right. Your body needs this kind of care,” Mercedes is saying, rather like a purr.</p><p>Lost in the feeling, and with her eyes closed, Ingrid’s mind goes blank. She thinks nothing, sees nothing, reduced to little more than her sense of touch. Doesn’t even notice the little mm- and ah- sounds that she makes every so often.</p><p>“May I take this off?” Mercedes says, tugging a bit at Ingrid’s uniform jacket. Ingrid leans forward so that Mercedes can do so, then sits back down once she’s wearing only her under shirt.</p><p>Then Mercedes is touching her again, unwinding the tension built up in Ingrid’s overworked muscles. And Ingrid loses herself in it. It’s not until she can suddenly smell Mercedes’ perfume, and feel the featherlight press of lips to the side of her neck, that she’s shaken out of the reverie. Her eyes shoot open, and in her surprise, the chair she’s sitting on scoots an inch back.</p><p>“Mercedes. What are you doing?”</p><p>The Mercedes that looks back at her still appears perfectly serene. Unmoved. “Why, helping you relax, of course.”</p><p>Ingrid’s face has flushed crimson, and she’s sure that other parts of her body must be doing the same, if the heat she feels is any indication. “Mercedes, this… this isn’t proper.”</p><p>“Oh? And why not? What is improper about a friend helping another to wind down a bit?”</p><p>“That, you-” Ingrid trips over her own words, “We’re both girls, for one. I…”</p><p>Mercedes softly laughs. “Ingrid… Just what law is there that forbids girls from being close to each other?”</p><p>“It isn’t about laws!” Ingrid surprises herself with how loud she suddenly is. She controls herself. “These… These acts of intimacy must be reserved for- for marriage, and…” her voice trails off as Mercedes inches closer, cupping Ingrid’s chin and lifting it up just so.</p><p>“Ingrid… I will say this because I care about you very much, alright?” She has leaned down a bit, and her icy blue eyes are looking straight into her own. Ingrid feels her throat constrict around itself.</p><p>“I can see how hard you work to control yourself. To keep your wishes and desires in check, so that you can play the part of the diligent knight. I have seen the way you look at women… the way you look at me.”</p><p>“Mercedes-!”</p><p>“There is absolutely nothing wrong with it, dear Ingrid. If only you would let yourself see it… I truly believe you would be so much happier, so much more free.”</p><p>“You’re overstepping, Mercedes.”</p><p>Mercedes giggles. She puts her other hand on Ingrid’s cheek. “You may stop me if that is what you truly want. But I can see it in your eyes, Ingrid, something that is trapped and longs to be free…”</p><p>Ingrid can barely catch her breath before Mercedes kisses her lips. She freezes, unable to bring her body to react. Mercedes holds it there, pressing into her lips for impossibly long seconds. As she pulls away, Ingrid stares after her with her eyes glittering, her gaze wanting.</p><p>“Oh, Ingrid. You truly are too wound up in every way,” Mercedes says. Ingrid looks away, unable to face her, knowing full well that she has completely given herself away but still hesitating to speak the words that would confirm it.</p><p>Mercedes steps away from her, and Ingrid watches, stunned, as Mercedes unties her shawl from around her waist, and lets it drop to the ground. Then begins to undo the buttons on her white under shirt.</p><p>“Mercedes- what-!”</p><p>When enough of them have popped open, she lets that fall and pool at her feet too. And then Ingrid can do nothing but watch in hot exasperation as she reaches behind her, unhooks her black bra, and loses it. Ingrid is left to stare at the infuriating, magnificent sight of Mercedes’ bare bosom, right in front of her.</p><p>She is… big. Bigger than she’d imagined. And so… round, so beautiful. So…</p><p>“Come, Ingrid. Touch me. I know you want to, so touch me.”</p><p>“I- I don’t…” Ingrid bites her lip, hard.</p><p>With a sigh, Mercedes comes toward her again, grabs one of her hands, and brings it to her breast. She inhales deeply as their hands close around her.</p><p>So soft. And the little perk of that hardened nipple...</p><p>Mercedes squeezes their hands against her skin again, and this time a small sound akin to a moan leaves her lips. Compelled by a force that she doesn’t know and is not able to control, Ingrid plunges forward, taking that breast into her mouth and palming at the other one with her hand.</p><p>Mercedes gasps, her voice doing a little <em>“ahh!”</em> when Ingrid’s mouth closes around her nipple. Her hands weave into Ingrid’s hair and hold her there, tightly against her chest.</p><p>Ingrid doesn’t know what she’s doing, or where this sudden urge is coming from, but right then she feels like she never wants to leave her current position. The feeling of being surrounded by Mercedes’ chest - of having that pert nipple in her mouth - overwhelms her senses and even her reason. She feels that she wants to stay there and ravish her forever.</p><p>Her lips and pull at Mercedes’ nipple, her teeth graze against it and her tongue swirls around it. Mercedes is making the most beautiful sounds, moaning and breathing heavily. Sometimes she speaks to her, too.</p><p>“Ingrid, oh, Ingrid!”, she’s crying out. And it only urges Ingrid further, pulling more skin into her mouth, trying to bury herself further in, if such a thing is even possible.</p><p>She feels dizzy when Mercedes suddenly pushes her face away from her chest, and takes her lips into her own again. This time she kisses her fiercely, deeply, forcing both of their mouths to open wide and gliding their tongues together. It’s wet, and it’s messy, and it should probably make Ingrid feel mortified, but instead all she feels is hot.</p><p>She separates to catch her breath, and finds that is panting, and not just from the physical exertion. “Mercedes, I-”</p><p>“You see, Ingrid-” Mercedes’ breath is laborious too, “Isn’t it so lovely to let yourself go? So freeing?”</p><p>“Mercedes, I feel… I’m-” even now, after all this, Ingrid can’t bring herself to speak the words. But, as always, Mercedes seems to know exactly what she needs. Slowly, expertly, she hikes a hand up her skirt, and Ingrid trembles when her fingers run against the soaked outline of her cotton underwear.</p><p>“I want to make you feel good, Ingrid,” Mercedes says, right next to Ingrid’s ear, her breath hot and tickling. “But I will not do it unless you ask me to. You must ask.”</p><p>Ingrid groans with frustration, barely even noticing how her hips are moving to seek Mercedes’ fingers.</p><p>“But this isn’t- I’ve never-”</p><p>Mercedes kisses at her earlobe. “I know. I know. It’s your first time, isn’t it? Don’t worry. I’ll keep to the outside only. I’ll take care of you.”</p><p>“I don’t know- what you mean- <em>oh-”</em> Ingrid’s entire body shakes as Mercedes’ fingers press a little harder against her, though still her touch is shielded by the tiny barrier of wet cotton.</p><p>“Again, only if you ask. Won’t you, dear Ingrid? I’ll make it so good for you.”</p><p>Ingrid feels delirious, hardly able to form a single thought, as aroused as she is. She has never felt this way before, never felt such an immediate craving for something that she can’t even name. Still, her body betrays her, screaming at her to just drop all inhibition and let Mercedes have her way. She has been fighting, but she can only fight so much. She shuts her eyes tight.</p><p>“Mercedes, please,” she cries. “Please, touch me, make me feel good, I-” another swipe of Mercedes’ fingers, and she moans. “Please.”</p><p>Mercedes smiles wide, pleased with Ingrid’s plea and, clearly, with herself. “Don’t worry, Ingrid. I’ll make it very, very good for you. Don’t think. Just feel.”</p><p>Her deft fingers brush aside Ingrid’s underwear, and when they make direct contact with her slit, Ingrid shouts out. The feeling is overwhelming. Good, so good, but also maddening in how much it burns.</p><p>
  <em>“Ah-!”</em>
</p><p>“I know, dear, I know. Just leave it to me.”</p><p>She runs her fingers up and down in vertical lines, smearing more of Ingrid’s abundant slick through her hot, sensitive skin. Then her index finger settles on her clit while her middle finger teases her entrance, and Ingrid sees stars.</p><p>“Oh Goddess, oh my- <em>oh-”</em></p><p>“It’s good, isn’t it? Doesn’t it feel nice?” Mercedes teases.</p><p>“Yes, it feels good, <em>a-ahh,</em> f--”</p><p>Ingrid doesn’t even know what exactly Mercedes is doing down there, but then she’s kissing her lips again and she’s moaning into her mouth and her clit is on fire, burning hotter and hotter and threatening to scorch her entire body, her entire <em>self</em>, and she wants it desperately, unlike she’s ever wanted anything before.</p><p>The inferno grows, and grows, and Mercedes’ fingers are moving faster, with precise and consistent moviments. She can feel one of her fingers teasing against her entrance just so and she has half a mind to shout at her to just put it inside already.</p><p>“Mercedes…!”</p><p>“C-Call me Mercie, please,” Mercedes asks, and somehow she too sounds like she’s on the verge of bursting.</p><p>“Mercie,” Ingrid repeats, mindless, and it rolls so easily off her tongue. “Mercie please, I- I want-”</p><p>“Come here, Ingrid.” Mercedes grabs Ingrid’s face with her free hand and pulls it towards her chest again. Ingrid diligently takes her nipple in her mouth, and is rewarded with more of Mercedes’ musical moans. As if she is the one being touched between her legs.</p><p>“That’s it, Ingrid. That’s it.” Her fingers intensify their sweet assault on Ingrid’s clit, her entrance, making use of the abundant lubrication provided by Ingrid’s slick.</p><p>“Harder. Harder, Ingrid!”</p><p>And Ingrid obliges, biting at her nipple and sucking as hard as she can, concentrating all of the energy she can into her task when she’s being driven into madness by Mercedes’ touch. She feels like she might suffocate there, smothered by Mercedes’ chest, and she wouldn’t even mind, not at all.</p><p>The sensation grows stronger and more overwhelming by the second, and she feels fit to burst, like her own body is a dam that’s about to break and flood her whole self, down to the soul. It builds, and builds, and she can’t stop it, and suddenly she releases Mercedes’ breast, shouting out.</p><p>“Mercie, oh <em>goddess-"</em></p><p>Her vision goes black, and she can feel nothing but pleasure. It courses through her veins like lightning and makes her shout and convulse and somehow seek more of it, desperately drawing it out so that it might never end. It’s by far the most intense, all-encompassing thing she has ever felt. Pure bliss.</p><p>When it’s over, and she regains sensation of her limbs, she feels them turn to jello. She collapses forward, and Mercedes catches her, holding her closely. Her world is silent and dark for a few moments longer, and then she can feel the warmth of Mercedes’ body again. The comfort of her hands stroking her hair, of her voice whispering “shh, shh. You did well.”</p><p>“Mercedes…?” Ingrid finally calls out, utterly spent. She only just registers that she’s still leaning against Mercedes’ bare bosom.</p><p>Mercedes giggles, though this time she sounds quite tired.</p><p>“Hello, Ingrid. Back with me again?”</p><p>“I… I think so.” She inhales. “That… was... “ Her words escape her, yet again. Mercedes presses a kiss to the top of her head.</p><p>“What can I do for you? Do you need a washcloth? Some water?”</p><p>“I, er. Both, please. I’m sorry to ask, but-”</p><p>“Hush now,” Mercedes interrupts. “Just sit tight, okay? I’ll be right back.”</p><p>Ingrid watches as Mercedes moves with surprising efficiency for someone who just got done fucking her silly.</p><p>...Oh, Goddess. Mercedes just fucked her silly. How in the world-?</p><p>Mercedes promptly returns with a glass of water and a soaked washcloth. Ingrid quickly downs the water, and uses the washcloth to clean up the… the mess, between her legs. She feels a mixture of sensations then. She feels satisfied, fulfilled. And yes, embarrassed, still. But she also feels tired. So, so tired. Like she can barely keep her eyes open.</p><p>“Mercedes, I’m… I’m so-”</p><p>“Tired? I’m sure you must be.” Once again, Mercedes seems to be able to read her mind. “Come here. You can get some rest on my bed. And don’t even try to tell me no!” She says, adorably resolute. She reaches a hand out to Ingrid, which she is thankful to take, feeling a bit dizzy once she stands from her chair. She lays on Mercedes’ bed, and is pleasantly surprised by how much it smells like lavender. Like her.</p><p>“Mercedes… Thank you,” Ingrid whispers, hardly conscious as sleep has already begun to grip her.</p><p>Mercedes smiles at her, and leans in to kiss her cheek. “Rest now, Ingrid. Take as long as you like.”</p><p>~~~</p><p>When Ingrid is sound asleep, and Mercedes has had enough of watching her looking so pretty and adorable and unguarded, Mercedes sits at her desk. She takes out a piece of scented letter paper that she brought from home, and a quill.<br/><br/>“I had a most pleasant evening with our favorite Lady Knight today,” she writes. “She has finally awoken the dormant women’s lady within her. You absolutely must join us at our next tea party. I believe we will have lots of fun together.”</p><p>Grinning to herself, she slips the note between the pages of one of her books. She cannot wait to deliver it to Dorothea the following morning.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This work is approved by the Church of Seiros. An additional copy can be found at the Garreg Mach Monastery Library.</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>